Sweet Sixteen

February 1st, 2002 is a day I don't remember. But, something very important happened on that day. My sister was born. She came into this world as a small, cute baby who was going to take away all my parents' attention from their beautiful single child. Not that I remember, of course. I was 2 years old (2.5 to be precise, she likes it that way). I don't remember the proceeding years either. What I remember has to do with the countless memories my parents froze in time over the years.

I remember looking at photos where I would treat this little bundle of joy, as my parents called her, with curiosity and love. I remember seeing photos of me looming over her, being her 3 year old bodyguard and vowing to protect her from every harm there is in the world. Well, the only things she did at that time was eat and sleep. It was hard not to fall in love with her.

Now comes the time when she grew up. She became 4 years old and her life revolved around me. I was her mentor, her big sister, her guide. She did what I did. She ate the way I did, she played with my friends and I when I did. I was 7 years old. It got in my nerves. "Ma, why is she following me around?!" I remember asking my Mother one day when I just wanted to play with my friends without her around.

Cut, and play! Skip to 5 years later. I'm 12 and she's 9. The only way she would cross a road was by holding my hand. I made sure she was around me when we were in public. I was her caretaker. I didn't want my annoying sister getting lost in the crowd. We choreographed a salsa dance, which is nothing like real salsa. We came up with games to keep us occupied with the sofas in the Drawing Room (don't ask me why we called it that in an apartment). We would swing around in our living room and come up with innovative competitions.

She was a girly-girl and I was a tomboy. I hated dresses and skirts and make up. She lived for them. I thought too much about the future, she was a carefree angel who lived in the moment. We were different and similar at the same time.

She's 12 and I'm 15. She no longer holds my hand when she needs to cross the road. She makes an effort to put up her argument every time we fight. She lashes back, or she tries. I am surprised at this sudden change in my little sister. I don't understand what is happening. My Mother said that is her way of asserting her independence, which happens when you grow up. Hey, I did it too! I drove my parents crazy, at least she is only driving me crazy.

Cut, again. This time she's 15 and I'm 18. I'm about to leave home. Our family of four is going to turn into a family of three, with one person across the world. It saddened me to leave my support system behind, and it saddened me to know that I'm not going to be there for my sister's milestones. I was gone four months. She turned from a bubbly girl to a happy young woman in those months. I encountered a completely different person when I went back home for a week. I couldn't recognize her, and still see her little sister self in her.

It's January 30th, 2018. Her birthday is on 1st February, 2018. She is turning 16. Unlike February 1st, 2002, this is a day I am going to remember for life. This is her first birthday for which I am not around. She has officially become a young woman, and I am not there to experience it.

This is going to be fun. She's 16, and I'm going to be turning 19. She's a tomboy now (but still manages to be way more fashionable than me), I'm more into fashion. She's still a carefree angel living in the moment, while I still overthink about the future. Somethings don't change, like the fact that we're sisters. We've just touched adulthood. Barely. We have our lives to get through side by side, sisters against the world. We have many more stories to exchange and many more arguments to get through.

Happy Birthday, baby sister!